Elf Tales - The Beauty and the Sass
by KyraEleison
Summary: How Thranduil met the love of his life and the mother of his baby boy, Legolas. And yes, he was always the sassiest elf of them all. (Thranduil x OC)
1. Chapter 1

**Since we know nothing about Legolas' mom, I figured it'd be fun to find out what kind of a person she was and how did she and Thranduil ended up together.**

**I know, elves always sound posh but not in here. Mind me.**

**I really hope you'll like it, please share your thoughts with me!**

* * *

_As the King of the most powerful – and ambitious – one of the Elven Realms, Oropher took the opportunity and collected the most promising ones of his kind and offered them the chance to learn at the Woodland Kingdom and become the finest elves they could ever be before returning home. After that, they will be the best hope of Middle Earth._

_**The Woodland Realm**_

_**Mirkwood**_

_**Breakfast time**_

Young elves are walking around the long, beautifully set table. They are graceful even at this early hour. They might look similar, but for someone who knows how many Elven Realms are existing in Middle Earth, they are all different somehow. Some of them are residents of Greenwood, some of them are from Rivendell, Lórien or Eldamar.

There isn't a loud word in the Great Hall of Mirkwood. Most of them already finished their breakfasts, it doesn't take long for elves to eat anyway. The dwarves still mock them for eating only sunshine, flowers and sweet vanilla scent. This, of course was never true. The elven _diet_ also includes fruits and vegetables as well as some lembas, and only the Lórien elves seem to be obsessed with any and all kinds of vanilla.

As the last person arrives to the Hall the silence disappeares for a few seconds. The air is filled with excited sighs of blushed elven maids.

It's _him_. The prince of Mirkwood, Thranduil with his shiny, blond hair and ice blue eyes. He instantly finds what he's looking for and without wasting any time, he's on his way to get it with long, confident steps. Giving a smirk to the hyperventilating girls when passing them, he's quickly reaching the far end of the gigantic table and stops. After fixing his completely mesmerizing brows, Thranduil bends forward and casually places his hands on the table next to the person having the last few bites of a piece of lembas.

„Is it_ that_ time of the morning, already?" asks the light brown haired elf without looking to the side.

The prince gives a wide smile. It is definitely _that_ time of the morning, and for weeks now he's making sure never to miss his most important duty of the day. _To seduce._

„May I sit here?" askes the prince in his smoothest tone.

The light brown haired elf slowly looks around, contemplating the almost empty table with gazillions of unoccupied seats before answering.

„Sure." Satisfied with the reaction, Tranduil sits down next to the elf girl. To be precise, he sits so tightly next to her like they have to share a single seat in the most crowded meeting the elven society has ever seen.

„You mean, sit in _my_ _lap_?" She askes without taking her eyes off of a book right in front of her.

„Only if you insist." The elven girl finally looks at the prince.

„Please tell me I'm dreaming right now."

In his mind, Thranduil's excitedly high fiving himself. He's slightly pouting while seductively tilting his head to the right.

„Is it a sweet dream?"

„It's kind of a nightmare."

Still smiling, he leans closer to the girl's ear.

„Maybe if you would sit in my lap..." Before turning back to her book, she gives Thranduil a grin.

„_Mirella..._" he sighs affectionately.

„Yes?"

„Yes what?"

„You said my name." she's starting to feel very irritated with the situation. And with the blonde elf.

„I was just tasting it." Abruptly, she's passing the last bite of her breakfast in his hands.

„Here, taste my lembas instead. I'm all done." Mirella slams her book.

The prince doesn't seem to be offended.

„What did you put on it? It smells like..." a surprised looking Haldír appears behind the two of them. „... _vanilla?_"

„I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

They share somewhat different opinions about what to answer to the newly arrived elf's question.


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Woodland Realm**_

_**Mirkwood**_

_**Elven Healing Class**_

The class is quiet. Everybody pays attention to the _Master Healer_ as she's explaining the misteries of her work. She knows so much, she's almost as powerful as the King himself. For various reasons, this observation stays unsaid. At least, out loud. The stories are almost unbelievable, yet nobody dares to question the truth behind them.

The students are sitting at an endless looking table. There are many of them. They sit still with perfectly straight backs, chins up, never breaking eye contact with their tutor. Only one of them lays with her head on the table, breathing heavily, knuckles pressed against the desk. Before the class started, the day was nice and calm.

_Mirella went for a morning walk in the forest with a few other elves. The weather was nice, the sun was shiny. The company entertaining. They were home, after all. Little did she know about what people say about a good start. And a terrible ending._

_When Mirella got into the hall where the Healing class was about to take place, a rather big crowd was already sitting around the table. The rest of the Elves were slowly arriving. Some of them were out in the forest as well, some of them came from the Library or from breakfast. Mirella was looking for a known face. It wasn't long before she took notice of the waving Haldír. As she made her way to him, she noticed the soothing absence of another familiar face. She smiled for herself. It looked like her favorite day. Haldír moved away from the elf who was sitting next to him to give space for the newly arrived Mirella. They only had time to say half of a sentece to each other. From out of nowhere, Thranduil wedged himself in between the two of them and started whispering endless nonsenses in his smoothest tone right in her ears. Who knows how many hours passed since that doomed moment? _

The prince's favorite elf is laying under the vail of her hair with her eyes closed tightly. Her parents always told her to be nice and respectful. Yet, the need for giving the greatest slap on the face of the pesky blonde is washing over her every five minutes. Thranduil realizes the lack of attention towards him. He's thinking about stroking the long, light brown hair but his hands stop before he could reach her. It is something new. He wants to touch but without his hands being broken right away. He never saw Mirella acting violently towards anyone but he saw her practicing her sword fight and it was definitely something to be worried about. Why isn't she listening? Why isn't she drinking his words from his lips like all the other maids do?

„Are you feeling good, love?" She exhales sharply.

„I don't know. It's so strange..." Thranduil leans closer to her. „This unexplainable, suffocating feeling. It's like something very dark has sticked to my aura."

„Don't you worry about that. I shall clean your sweet aura with my own hands."

She sits up straight like an arrow looking right at the eyes of the Prince. Without blinking, she leans closer to his face.

„Oh, no. Wait. It's just _YOU_."

The Master Healer clears her throat. The whole class is looking at the two of them. Haldír shakes his head slightly while hiding behind his hands.

„I couldn't help but realize how desperately you had to share your thoughts with each other about the dragon flu, I suppose. I guess I should give you some more time to submerge in the world of healing. You two shall join me in the next few days at the Healing Ward. I might need your _outstanding_ opinions."

Mirella slams her head back to the table while Haldír is patting her back with soothing purposes. Thranduil sees a chance to fulfill his dream for the day and gives her a quick, light stroke on the back of her head.

He is the _happiest_ elf in Mirkwood.


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Woodland Realm**_

_**Mirkwood**_

_**Healing Ward**_

Their last day at the Healing Ward. Finally. They earned it with their _„untolerable"_ behavior. After that embarrassing class, Mirella alongside Thranduil had an even more embarrassing conversation with the Master Healer, who for some unknown reason was kind enough not to run to the King and _„tell him about the misfortunate events that occured during her lecture"_. And though she was keeping her promise about not letting Oropher know about it, she never missed a chance to refer to them as _„rebels"_ throughout their week long guest appearance at the Healing Ward.

Mirella tries to sneak up to the huge, shiny gate of the Ward, hoping she can stay alone just for a few more minutes. Her hopes doesn't agree. As she turns the last corner before the great entrance, her eyes instantly catch the sight of her least favorite blonde elf. There's not much she could do to avoid meeting the Prince because A) walking through that gate is less than optional and B) he was waiting for her at the same spot yesterday. And the day before that, And before that. And so on for seven days.

She walks up to him, noticing the ever so annoying smirk on his lips. They're both wearing the uniform of the healers. Silver trousers and waistcoat, white cape with standing collars, silver shoes. The Prince catches her wondering gaze.

„How do I look?"

„Flawless..."

„Thank you. I happened to woke up like this." He winks playfully. They keep on doing this scene moring after morning, sometimes with minor alterings.

„Phenomenal. Do you want me to bow down?" His brows flinch at the unexpected offer.

„Wait, what was that?"

„What was what, love?"

„Your brows flinched."

„Did they?" The light brown haired elf smiles and starts to walk through the ward gate. She's tall as every elf maid, but somehow she till looks more shapely. Her hips moving paralysingly with every step. Thranduil swallows and with long steps quickly pulls up with her.

„You do it a lot. Flinching your brows. Subconsciously, I suppose. When you're excited, maybe?"

„I don't even know what you're talking about." His smile tells a different tale but she won't argue on this one.

_On their first day, the Master Healer gave them her instructions about anything and everything she wanted them to do while they spent their time with the healers. One of her first instruction was to change into the uniforms. They had to find and carry the vials the healers needed, sometimes they even had to mix weird looking and smelling liquids, other times they had to make notes about different plants or diseases._

_Thranduil was not impressed by the way things were going. The elves at the ward made sure he had zero time for small talks or gentle whispers to the ears, not to mention that sometimes he was forced to spend his whole day separated from his favorite elf. He was hoping all day he could have a glimpse at her. Not only in the morning when they walked in together or at the evening when they walked out._

What the two _„rebels"_ don't know, is that someone very special is waiting for them. They don't even suspect anything when a very serious looking elf sends them in the room of the Master Healer. Surprise.

„Son!" Mirella turns to the Prince in slow motion but suspiciously enough, he refuses to return the look. She evidently hopes for some kind of explanation.

„Father..." And she definitely won't get it.

The King seems rather entertained for some odd reasons and bows as he takes the girl's hand.

„Mirella, is it? The young lady who seems to be just as passionate about the mysterious world of healing as my son, apparently. I'm sorry it took me this long to meet you personally, since I heard so much about the gentle affection you share with my son. Besides, you really do have beautiful eyes, my dear."

Above mentioned Prince closes his eyes while exhaling slowly. There isn't a trace of the signature smirk on his face. Mirella blushes rapidly and in her despair, she says the first thing coming into her mind. Unfortunately.

„Oh, no. No, my King. We just really love to practice biology together." It's Thranduil's turn now to look at her in disbelief. Oropher doesn't even blink.

„Of course you do, my dear. At your age..." At least the King's having fun.


	4. Chapter 4

_**The Woodland Realm**_

_**Mirkwood**_

_**Festive preparations**_

Excitement fills the air all over Mirkwood as the most beloved event of the year is getting closer and closer to the inhabitants. The _Autumnal Equinox_ is only a few days away and the elven population is slowly getting ready for a celebration worthy of it's name, the „most anticipated festivity of them all."

Regardless of age or gender, everybody seems to be in the mood. Well, perhaps some of them a bit more than others...

„Maybe we should just look the other way." Mirella says without taking her eyes off of the terrifying sight.

„I agree. I can barely watch it." Haldir's voice is somewhat frightend. He raises his hands to cover his eyes.

„Be strong, my friend. Look at that! How many hands do you think she has?"

„More than two. Otherwise how would it be possible to touch that much body-surface at the same time?" He shakes his head in horror.

Not too far from Mirella and Haldir, on the other side of the long table they are sitting at, a very unamused looking Thranduil is entertained by a shamelessly red-blooded elf maid. She's all over the Prince, quiet literally. She's so pumped up by the whole situation her cheeks are flaming and so do her eyes. Her dark auburn hair keeps on flying in the air around Thranduil, who's face tells a silent tale about distress and hatred. The show is more or less enjoyable.

When the intruder wraps her arms around Thraduil with the intention of squeezing herself into his body than romantically rests her head on his broad chest, Mirella can't keep a straight face anymore.

„Never have I ever thought I will say something like this, but I'm kind of almost feeling sorry for him." Surprised by her own words, Mirella turns to Haldir. He's obviously feeling uncomfortable. It takes a few moments for him to find his voice, but when he finally does, his words are not soothing.

„I am very pleased to hear that. It makes me feel less bad about you."

„Haldir? What are you talking about?"

„I may or may not have made a hasty promise to someone."

The great entrance to the Big Hall opens up. A white haired, elegant looking elf is politely asking for attention. When all eyes are looking at him, he starts talking on a honey like voice. „As in every year at the time of the _Equinox_, the celebration starts with the most majestic ball of Middle-Earth. This celebration will open – as I have already informed you earlier – with a dance. Oropher, out King asked me to prepare you all for this wonderful event. Please find your partners and follow me into the Big Hall."

Without any loud words or huddle the elf students are getting ready for their dance class. Most of the pairs are already made, they're slowly approaching the great entrance.

Mirella glances at Haldir. „Shouldn't we go?"

„I don't know how to say it, but..." She puts her fingers on his lips to silence him.

„I know. Don't worry, I'm not the best eighter."

Without any warning, Thranduil steps behind his favorite elf and leans down to her ears.

„Can I have the honor of leading you the ball room on my arms, love?" Mirella rolls her eyes.

„You definitely can not." She quickly turns around to face the blonde elf. „You must be mistaken me for your other girlfriend. You know, the one who had a hand on every inch of you about two and a half minutes ago." Both Haldir and Thranduil look at her with wide eyes. Her tone was much more desperate than she wanted it to be. „Not like I care. I do not care!"

The Prince feels the need to explain himself. „ I wouldn't dare think you do. But I must tell you, that maid is not and was never a lover of mine! Unfortunately, she never seems to listen when I tell her how uninterested I am."

It's Mirella's turn to look at him with wide eyes. „That must be awful. Tell me more about it!"

* * *

The Great Hall is packed with young elves. Every pair is standing on their own spot, marked out by the elegant, white haired teacher.

Mirella's standing with her arms crossed on her chest, she refuses to look at her partner. It was a very long time ago when she last felt so disappointed.

„I can't believe he traided me. This is all your fault." She pushes her index finger in Thranduil's chest. He doesn't seem offended at all. Instead, he catches her hand and places a small kiss on it. The dark auburn haired elf maid stands on the verge of a heavy tantrum. Mirella wants to punch her least favourite elf in the face.

The white haired dance teacher walks around the pairs. He waves in the air and soft music starts to play before he gives the first instructions. „Young men, keep your backs straight, stand up tall and hold your ladies' hands with one hand." The elven students follow his words. „Now put the other hand slightly on the waist. Be very gentle!"

The Prince looks at the light brown haired elf, raising one eyebrow questioningly.

„Don't you even think about going lower than my waist. Or I will have to introduce my right knee to your royal parts."

Bending down to her ears, Thranduil whispers seductively. „Maybe just a tiny bit lower?"

„I'm getting real tired of you not taking me seriously." Mirella whispers back.

„But love, I would take you all the way." The Prince's royal parts stay untouched thanks to the elf who signals for the dance to start.

The teacher takes his duty very seriously. The pairs must spin and bend until every single step they make become confident and precise. Nothing less than perfect will do. They must be aware of where they have to stand, where they need to move, otherwise they will crash into another duo. The dark auburn haired elf and her partner bumped into Mirella and Thranduil at least three times. Chances are, not by mistake. The music stops and the swirling of the pairs stop.

As much as Mirella would hate to confess, the Prince is not a bad dancer. She was almost certain he'd be a terrible one, but for her own surprise, she was so wrong. Thranduil's voice finds it's way to her ears.

„We've never been so close before."

„I'm aware of that and I miss those times." She makes a step back but he reacts fastly and takes a step forward to her.

„We could even hug. Just cuddle a bit."

„I left my sword in my chamber. Isn't it your lucky day?" Now she takes a step forward, hoping the blonde elf would step back but he doesn't. They're standing too close.

„Don't you worry, love, I have a sword you can borrow anytime. It's all yours." He winks at her with a naughty spark in his eyes that makes Mirella flash a smile.

„No, thank you. I prefer extra long blades."

„Everything I owe is King sized!" Fortunately, he doesn't feel the need to prove himself.

„Obviously. Starting with your ego."

Thranduil looks around and whispers in her ears intimately. „My father really liked you."

„Please, don't even... WHAT?" She spares him a roving glance.

„When we were at the Healing Ward."

The memories are vivid, it didn't happen a long time ago. Oropher's surprise visit left Mirella hiding in her chamber for two whole days. „I wish I could unattend that meeting."

„He's looking forward to a have a dance with you at the Ball."

She blushes rapidly. „I don't think I can dance with the King."

„Than dance with me instead."

„Maybe I could. But honestly, I don't even like you."

„Than why are you still holding my hand?" He asks softly.

Thranduil holds back a grin as Mirella snatches her hands rapidly, terrified by the realization that he was right and they were standing around like that for minutes. When she finally dares looking back up at him, he's not smiling. He's just staring at her with an unknown expression on his face.

„Your eyes change their colour, did you know that? From green to blue. Subconsciously, I suppose. When you're excited, maybe?" _Déja Vu._ The bastart.

„Read my lips: I don't know what you're talking about."


End file.
